


Three's a Crowd

by brynnmck



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-15
Updated: 2007-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynnmck/pseuds/brynnmck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>If Elaine had wanted porn, she would've rented it, dammit.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's a Crowd

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Less is More Day](http://justbreathe80.livejournal.com/127752.html).

Elaine guessed it was a welcome sign of the continuity of life that Ray Vecchio still drove like an escaped convict making a desperate bid for freedom.

Of course, in all fairness, she had voluntarily agreed to ride with him, but he was coming back to Chicago after a week visiting relatives in New York and her hotel was on the way from the airport, so it made sense for him to pick her up so she could give him the final details of the case while they drove. A sharp turn pressed her against the door again, and she rolled her eyes, smoothing red silk carefully over her knee. If she came out of this with her new dress all wrinkled from Ray's creative interpretation of Chicago traffic laws, she swore she was going to take it out on his expensive-looking suit at the earliest opportunity.

"That's some dress," Ray told her with a shake of his head, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Eyes on the road, Vecchio," she shot back, but she was smiling. It _was_ some dress, and it was fun to get dressed up and go to a fancy restaurant, even more so because she was hoping to cap off her evening by arresting a German arms dealer who'd been supplying illegal weapons to several gangs in Washington, D.C.. When her Lieutenant had mentioned that Kaltenbach might have a meet scheduled in Chicago, she'd jumped at the chance—she knew the city, had a good relationship with the local law enforcement, and this bust was going to look great on her record.

Catching up with old friends was just a side benefit.

She'd missed Ray, though, bad driving and all. She hadn't realized quite how much until she'd come out of the revolving door of her hotel and caught sight of him waiting at the curb with—of course—the Riviera, whistling low while he'd opened the passenger side door for her. "Lookin' good, there, Bresbiss," he'd said, grinning appreciatively.

"It's Bruhier now," she'd told him, waggling her wedding ring in his face before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "And you're not looking so bad, yourself." Which hadn't just been flattery—fortunately for, well, everyone, Vecchio had apparently continued on the fashion trajectory he'd been on before he'd left for Vegas, and his sleek tailored suit in shades of black and charcoal was a far cry from the eye-blistering ensembles he'd tended to go for in the bad old days.

Ray had just winked. "I do my best, Elaine. I do my best."

It was good to see him again, good to prove to herself with her own eyes that he was whole and happy—she knew the Langoustini job couldn't have been easy for a guy like him, who'd thrived on his friends and family even while he complained about them. And she was his equal now, too, after having spent years in a supporting role, and she couldn't deny that she enjoyed rubbing in that _"Detective_ Bruhier" at every possible opportunity.

"So you married a suit, huh?" Ray was asking her now.

"Yep," she said. "Mark Bruhier, Attorney at Law."

"Law and order." Ray's mouth quirked. "Pretty good combo."

"Yeah," she replied, smiling fondly at the thought—the one disadvantage of this trip was that she was missing Mark like crazy. "It works. And you—you're seriously living with Fraser and Kowalski? How does _that_ work?"

Ray smiled, too, and shook his head again. "Well, I'm hoping that by spending my earthly days stuck in an enclosed space with a crazy Mountie and a Polack with an attention span too infinitesimal to be measured with existing technology, I'll ensure that my reward will be great in heaven."

Elaine laughed. Kowalski had said something similar when she'd asked him a couple of days before, only with more slang and more slouching, and she'd laughed then, too; three single guys living together, she guessed it made sense. In fact, after all the weird things they'd all been through, they'd probably pretty much ruined themselves for anyone but each other. She didn't even want to think about what their dinner-table conversations must be like.

Ray's abrupt acceleration caught her off-guard, pushing her back into her seat. She smoothed her dress again and glared at him. "You know, if we die on the way, Kaltenbach's deal is going to go through and you'll have a bunch of gang-related deaths on your hands in addition to mine."

"Come on." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his eyes glinting with amusement. "That's just silly, Elaine," he continued, in a pretty decent imitation of Fraser's unflappable tone, and she just had time to whack him on the shoulder before she had to grab the seat with both hands and hold on.

 

*****

 

Fraser was waiting for them outside the restaurant, and Elaine couldn't help sighing a little bit at the sight of him. Yeah, she was happily married, but she wasn't _blind_ , and Fraser was still Fraser, even out of uniform. In fact, given what she remembered about his off-duty clothes when she'd been working at the 27th, she strongly suspected Vecchio's influence in what Fraser was wearing now—dark slacks, the material draping smoothly from his narrow hips, a crisp blue shirt that brought out the deeper blues in his eyes, and a black leather jacket. She held in another sigh. For a guy who was so big on justice for all, Fraser was sure a walking advertisement for the unfair distribution of genetic wealth.

"Good evening, Elaine," he said as they approached, inclining his head a bit. "You look lovely."

She grinned, enjoying the thrill. Fraser wasn't blind, either. "Thanks, Fraser."

Next to her, Ray was smiling. "Hey, Benny."

"Welcome home, Ray," Fraser replied, smiling back, and whoa. Ray's hands were in his pockets and his stance was easy, and Fraser was at parade rest as usual, and there was a good four feet between them, but their eyes just _locked_ on each other and Elaine stepped back a little before she could think about it; it felt like standing next to a live wire.

 _OK, I guess that answers_ that _question_ , she thought, trying to keep from smirking. She'd known exactly what was going on between these two back in the day—after all, there were only so many times a girl could catch a couple of guys hiding out in a dark closet together before she figured that maybe she was barking up the wrong tree—and that had been tough on her ego and slightly tougher on her calorie count, but in the end she'd been grateful. Fraser was a distracting guy to have around, and realizing that she was definitely not his type had saved her hours of daydreaming that she'd ended up putting to good use getting into the Academy. Anyway, apparently what had been going on back then was still going on now, and she didn't know how Kowalski put up with being the third wheel, but however it worked, good for them—they were good guys, they deserved to be happy.

"Where's Kowalski?" Ray asked finally, his voice bedroom low and rough.

"Inside," Fraser answered without taking his eyes from Vecchio's, and Elaine was absolutely positive that Fraser had not meant that to sound as pornographic as it did, but _damn._ She cleared her throat. Maybe she should've found another ride here.

"So, uh, let's get this started, OK, guys?" she said quickly, heading for the front door. The sooner they got the ball rolling here, the sooner they could all go home and Ray and Fraser could get to what they were obviously _really_ interested in doing.

In fact, Elaine was starting to look forward to getting back to D.C., tracking down Mark, and doing a bit of that, herself. Possibly more than a bit.

She was grinning, already speculating on possibilities, when Fraser held the door open for her and she stepped into the lush warmth of the restaurant.

It was a classy place, all starched white tablecloths and rich red carpet, with a dance floor in the middle. She spotted Kowalski almost immediately, his shock of spiky blond hair like a beacon against the wine-dark walls. He cleaned up pretty good, too (Vecchio again, she guessed, because Kowalski had _definitely_ not dressed like that when she'd first met him), khaki slacks and an olive green shirt open just one button too far to be entirely appropriate.

Jesus. None of these guys were very good at blending in, were they?

Seeing her watching him, Kowalski winked at her. She cocked an eyebrow at him and headed for the bar, casually adjusting her earpiece as she went. "You guys reading me?" she asked as Vecchio and Fraser drifted into the crowd behind her, fanning out for better coverage of the room. When they all answered in the affirmative, she slid onto a polished wooden barstool and ordered a martini. Strictly in the interest of maintaining her cover, of course.

She settled one arm against the bar, looking as unobtrusively as possible for Kaltenbach's pale hair in the crowded restaurant. But there was nothing but the steady murmur and clatter of a busy night until Kowalski's voice came through her earpiece, lazy and casual. "So, Vecchio, let's hear it. How was the Big Apple?"

"Oh, you know," Vecchio answered, seated at a table now, with a glass of red wine in front of him. "Loud, dirty, crazy. Reminded me of you, actually."

Kowalski nodded and leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. "Aw, that's nice, I missed you, too. No one to bitch about the inferior quality of the oregano in the pizza, no one to tell me my shirt was stupid, me and Fraser watched a whole hockey game without you sucking up all the air in the room by sighing every ten seconds…"

"Well, it's funny you mention sucking, Kowalski, because I was gonna say you could—"

"Ray," Fraser broke in mildly, and somehow it sounded like he meant both of them; Vecchio and Kowalski were on opposite sides of the room from each other but she saw them break into identical, simultaneous grins.

Still grinning, Kowalski pushed off the wall and ambled toward a pretty blonde girl sitting alone at a table.

"Kowalski, what the hell—" Elaine started, because to her knowledge this girl had absolutely nothing to do with their case, but it was too late.

"Hi," Kowalski was saying, giving the girl a half-shy, half-charming smile.

"Hi," Elaine heard, faint through the interference in the earpiece.

"Wanna dance?" Kowalski asked, holding out a hand, and the girl hesitated, then shrugged and smiled and let Kowalski pull her to her feet.

"Kowalski, we aren't here to—" Elaine protested, but Fraser interrupted her.

"Actually, Elaine, given the position of the dance floor and the necessary motion of the act itself, Ray is situating himself perfectly to observe the entire room nearly unobstructed."

"Yeah, what he said," Kowalski muttered as he pulled the girl into a smooth turn, and Elaine heard Vecchio snort in amusement.

Kowalski could move, she had to give him that; given that was used to seeing him bouncing around the bullpen like a six-year-old on a sugar high, it was… interesting to see him so focused, all of his typical manic energy channeled into the sway and flow of the dance. The music was low, a steady, sultry beat with a Latin flair, and Elaine took a sip of her martini, let herself relax into it a little. Kowalski did look like he was paying attention, anyway, at least as much as he ever did. She scanned the room carefully, watching for anything out of the ordinary, and then her eyes drifted over Vecchio and skidded to a halt while she almost choked on her very high-quality vodka.

Vecchio. Was watching Kowalski. Though "watching" was far from the right word; Elaine didn't even know if there _was_ a word for what Vecchio was doing to Kowalski, but it was definitely not something he should've been doing in a public place, and what the hell? Did he think Fraser wasn't going to notice? Fraser noticed _everything_. She glanced nervously at him, leaning against the wall in the shadows of a far corner. Maybe she was imagining it. She'd been in Chicago all week, and she and Mark had barely had time for phone conversations; maybe she was projecting and _she_ was the one who needed to get laid.

While she was turning it over in her mind, the music shifted, something slower and smoother, and the next thing she knew, Vecchio was right at Kowalski's shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in?" he said, with the _I-want-something-and-you-know-you're-going-to-give-it-to-me_ smile that Elaine knew way too well. She'd given up more than one day off to that smile. And her heart started to thud, because she swore he was asking _Kowalski_ to dance, and that was damn sure going to attract the kind of attention they really didn't need. But Kowalski just raised his eyebrows and grinned and stepped back, and the girl smiled and blushed and stepped into Vecchio's arms, and he swept her easily back into the music without missing a beat. But just before he pulled away, his hand brushed over Kowalski's where it still rested on the girl's waist, and Elaine swallowed hard.

OK. She was definitely not imagining this.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wanting no part of what was bound to happen any second now. Fraser wasn't stupid, and Vecchio and Kowalski had just practically posted a neon sign above their heads, and not only was this bad for the assignment but she cared about all three of these guys, wanted to see them happy. The prospect of something ugly like this coming between them had a hard knot twisting in her chest.

But Fraser didn't move, and Kowalski made his way casually off the dance floor, finally stopping near the wall, almost directly opposite Fraser. From where she sat, Elaine made the third point of a triangle between them, and she could see Kowalski still swaying slightly to the beat, his eyes heavy-lidded and completely focused on Vecchio as he moved. Vecchio was watching him, too, every time he turned Kowalski's way, and the energy arcing between them was a low hum in the air.

The knot in Elaine's chest closed tighter. Jesus. Kowalski was _dancing_ with Vecchio, right there in front of Fraser. What the hell was wrong with them?

"Hey, uh, Fraser?" Kowalski said, his hips still moving, subtle but unmistakable.

"Yes, Ray?"

"The thing you said about the dance floor and the situating myself and whatnot?"

"Yes, Ray."

"I just thought she was pretty."

"I know, Ray." Elaine saw Fraser's teeth flash white in the shadows. Then he edged forward a bit, enough so that light fell on his face and she could see his expression clearly, and it hit her like a slap, all smolder and intensity while he watched Vecchio, watched Kowalski, watched them watch each other, and…

She felt the whole thing fall into place suddenly, tumblers clicking in a lock. _Holy crap,_ she thought, disbelieving. _All_ three _of them?_

That was…

That was…

… Huh.

That was not an unpleasant mental picture, actually.

 _OK, Elaine, get a grip._ She blinked and took a steadying sip of her martini, relief (and, all right, no small amount of curiosity) giving way to renewed determination. That was also completely not why they were here, and even as she made a note never to work with these guys again unless they'd had some good quality time together recently, preferably even immediately before meeting up with her, she cleared her throat. "Hey, Vecchio, let's keep our eyes on the prize here, OK?"

"Ray, three o'clock," Fraser said suddenly, levering himself sharply off the wall, and Elaine had no idea how they knew whose three o'clock he was talking about but both Rays started moving immediately, Vecchio with one last easy smile for his dance partner. Elaine caught the flash of blond hair they were headed toward and slid off her chair, moving quickly despite her stiletto heels. Still, Vecchio and Kowalski beat her there by a few steps and Vecchio dropped a casual hand onto Kaltenbach's shoulder.

"Hey, there, Kaltenbach—Chicago PD. Fancy meeting you here," he said, steel under his smile now. Kaltenbach spun around, his hand sliding underneath his jacket, but Kowalski was already there, his gun held close to his body but pointed directly at an area that Elaine was pretty sure Kaltenbach wanted to protect.

"Bad idea, Adolf," Kowalski snapped.

"Now, Ray," Fraser put in, coming up behind them, "I believe Mr. Kaltenbach's first name is actually 'Gunther,' and just because he happens to be of German descent is no reason to make drastic historical comparisons."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right, Fraser." Kowalski nodded, grinning wolfishly. "I'm sure he's just misunderstood."

Several of the large guys surrounding Kaltenbach were watching him carefully; Vecchio raised an eyebrow at them. "You kids wanna play, too? Four of us, seven of you… could be a fair fight."

Kaltenbach gave a sharp shake of his head, looking from Vecchio to Kowalski to Fraser with confusion and the beginnings of panic clear on his face. Elaine sighed.

"What Mr. Kaltenbach is, is under arrest," she said firmly, stepping forward. When Kaltenbach started to protest, she just shrugged. "OK, if you don't want to come with me, I can just leave you with these guys…" She swiveled a little on one heel, and Kaltenbach caught desperately at her arm.

"No, wait, please—"

Elaine nodded, grabbed his hand and pressed on his shoulder, twisting his arm behind his back. "Yeah, I don’t blame you." She held out her free hand, and Vecchio slapped a pair of cuffs into it. God, she never got tired of the sound of handcuffs clicking into place. "You have the right to remain silent…"

All three of her partners were grinning now, and it seemed downright rude not to join in.

 

*****

 

The arrest seemed to have diffused the stifling get-a-room kind of tension that had been so blatant while they were in the restaurant, so in the name of getting back to D.C. as early as possible, Elaine had agreed to head back to the station so they could get the details of their reports ironed out that night rather than having to wait until the next day. It had seemed safe enough while she was in the Riv with Ray, bantering cheerfully about the look on Kaltenbach's face when they'd caught up with him and the happy prospect of his years in prison, but as soon as she stepped into the mostly-dark bullpen, she knew instantly that she'd made a huge mistake.

 _Note to self,_ she thought ruefully. _When forced to work in close proximity to three guys who can barely keep their hands off each other, do not add mood lighting._

She was committed now, though, so she just tried to keep things as clear and professional as possible, which was difficult when Vecchio was sprawled out in his chair with easy grace and Kowalski was seated on the desk next to him, his back against the wall and his legs dangling down just barely close enough to brush the fabric of Vecchio's trousers, and Fraser was standing a few feet away looking at them both like he couldn't decide which of them he wanted to tackle first.

Elaine cleared her throat. _Is it hot in here?_ "So we discovered through local sources that Kaltenbach had set up a meet at _Allegra_ ," she prompted, forcing herself to focus. They were in the home stretch now, they just had to keep moving.

Fraser, at least, turned his attention to her with a near-audible snap. "Right. And so Detective Kowalski and I—"

"Cased the joint while you brought Vecchio up to speed," Kowalski continued for him, restless hands finding his now-empty gun where it was lying on the desk next to him. He leaned forward and grabbed the pocket square out of Vecchio's suit jacket.

"Hey!" Vecchio objected, but Kowalski just swung his leg forward a little so that his foot brushed underneath Vecchio's thigh.

"Chill, Detective Armani."

One side of Fraser's mouth quirked up, and Vecchio tried to glare, but it was weak and he obviously knew it. Kowalski grinned and idly started polishing fingerprints from the grip of his pistol with the square of red silk.

"Anyway," Vecchio went on, still working on his glare, "it turned out the intel was good, and Kaltenbach showed up as promised."

Fraser picked up the thread. "And, upon further questioning, it became apparent that he had been working with several local Chicago crime syndicates, including the well-known Giordano family. Which was a particularly interesting connection in light of the fact that Kaltenbach has a history of animosity with several New York Italian families, such… as…"

He trailed off on a long exhale in the middle of his sentence, and Elaine followed his line of sight until she saw what was distracting him. Kowalski had finished polishing the grip on his service weapon and had moved on to the barrel, rubbing the silk over the smooth metal with slow, careful strokes.

In the silence, Vecchio's hand shot out and shoved both Kowalski's hand and his gun down against the desk with a sharp crack. "I think it's clean enough, Kowalski," he said quietly, and Kowalski gave him a slow smile.

"Ya think?"

Elaine gritted her teeth. OK, she loved them and she was happy for them, but seriously. She was _standing right here_. "Do you guys need a minute?"

"Ye—" Kowalski started, at which point Vecchio elbowed him in the thigh.

"No, Elaine, we're fine, let's just get this done with and get home, OK?"

"Quite right, Ray," Fraser agreed, shaking his head a little.

"Fine," Elaine said firmly. "So Kaltenbach turns out to be in bed with the Giordanos. They've set up a nice little automatic weapon superhighway between Chicago and D.C., and with Kaltenbach in custody, we should have all the evidence we need to…"

And then it was her turn to trail off, because Fraser had unbuttoned the top button of his shirt while she'd been talking, and was working now at his left sleeve, folding the material over itself with deliberate care, exposing muscled forearm a couple of teasing inches at a time. Elaine swallowed hard and dared a glance at the desk. Sure enough, the other two had pretty much left the building, at least when it came to police work: Kowalski was staring openly at Fraser with his eyes hot and his mouth slack, and Vecchio was doing a little better keeping his cool, but not much—she could see the tension in the line of his shoulders, like he was holding himself in his chair by sheer force of will. Elaine could feel the shape of the air between the three of them.

All right. Enough was enough. "So, if it's all the same to you guys," she said quickly, "since we did most of the leg work, I'm going to suggest that my office get credit for the bust." She paused; no answer from any of them. "Is that OK?"

Still nothing for another long handful of seconds, and then Vecchio eventually managed, "Yeah, Elaine," clearly mesmerized by the motion of Fraser's fingers on the button of his other sleeve.

"Yeah," Kowalski echoed faintly.

Elaine felt a brief flash of guilt at taking advantage of them in their time of… whatever this was their time of, but after all, nothing she'd just said was false—she was just saving herself the trouble of going a few rounds with Kowalski and Vecchio before they reached the same conclusion. The bust was hers, had been since she'd set foot in Chicago, and after the night they'd just put her through, they _owed_ her anyway. If she'd wanted porn, she would've rented it, dammit.

"So, if you guys'll just sign this…" She stuck the report under their hands, and both of them signed it without looking. Fraser was technically only here in an unofficial capacity, so she wouldn't need his signature. Besides, he seemed to be occupied with the sleeve-rolling thing, which she had to admit looked like something that deserved intense concentration.

"Well," she continued cheerfully, tucking away the report, "it's been great seeing you guys."

"Yeah, good seein' you," Kowalski murmured.

"Take care, Elaine," Vecchio muttered.

"Thank you kindly for your help, Elaine," Fraser finished, moving slowly toward the desk now, and Elaine tossed off a hasty,

"Bye!" and fled for the double doors.

As soon as they swung shut behind her, she heard a crash, followed by low masculine laughter and something she had a distinct feeling was at least one muffled moan. She shook her head and walked faster, grinning in spite of herself.

Yeah, she was definitely gonna catch the early flight to D.C.. And when she got back, Mark was going to have no idea what hit him.


End file.
